Faltering
by AshQueen18198
Summary: Fantine is adapting to her new life in M. sur M. when trouble strikes. Meanwhile, France falls for a woman who is quickly descending into darkness. Human names used.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello readers! I am really pumped; this is my first **_**Hetalia**_** fanfiction to be published (yes, I know it's a **_**Les Misérables**_**/**_**Hetalia**_** crossover, but still!) Some of you may know me from the fanfics I've written for **_**Les Misérables. **_**If so, then welcome back to another installment of "let's expose what I think about most of the day!" If you don't know who I am, then hello! Either way, "do not forget my name, do not forget me…" **

**I've had this idea for a while now, and it was based off of a one-paragraph tidbit that I wrote quite some time ago about France and Fantine running into each other when France was handing out bread. **

**Anyways, I still have my wonderful beta and * ****drum roll**** * I'm back on Microsoft Word! Do you not care? I don't care, either!**

**WARNING: When the time comes, prostitution will be discussed and delved into, but only to show Fantine's suffering and the horrors of selling one's self. (I am very much against prostitution and sex slavery, and I am trying to raise awareness.) **

**IF YOU WERE LOOKING FOR A STORY WITH A HAPPY PLOT AND ENDING, YOU MAY WANT TO STOP READING. **

**I do not own **_**Les Misérables**_** or **_**Hetalia**_** (Victor Hugo isn't responding to my calls, so I can't ask him if I can own **_**Les **__**Misérables**_**. I wonder why he's ignoring me… Did I do something wrong? O_O) Hidekaz Himaruya owns **_**Hetalia**_**, and you can rest assured that I am not him. **

M. sur M., January 31, 1822, 3rd person, France's POV

Francis stood in front of the mirror, fiddling with his cravat, wanting to be sure that he was perfect in appearance. A large wicker basket, lined with material, rested on the scratched wooden desk. Every day, he made sure to dedicate a part of his morning to feeding the hungry in any town that he happened to be in at the time. He had yet to purchase the bread from the local bakery, so he set out from the small room at the local inn.

The town was bustling with activity. Children scampered to-and-fro across the streets, and a few carriages rolled through the town. Men and women rushed to their jobs. Francis, however, simply strolled into the bakery and purchased the finest, fresh bread that he could. His basket now overflowing, he stepped into the street, basket in his arms, and traversed the town, handing food to whoever was in need.

Francis neared the black glass factory, where the industry had been booming due to the genius of a M. Madeleine, who had discovered a cheaper way to manufacture black glass. Factory workers scurried into the building, but one had caught Francis' eye.

She was in her twenties, with porcelain skin and hair as golden as a flaming sun. Two bright cerulean eyes were framed by long lashes, and below her exquisite nose were a pair of cherry-red lips. She had long, delicate fingers and well-trimmed nails. Everything about her was simply magnificent. She was alluring, even in her simple factory uniform.

She shot a quick glance to him and caught his eye for a millisecond, then headed inside to work.

3rd person, Fantine's POV

Fantine could feel her feet dampen as slush in the street leaked into her boots. Her uniform was thin and did a poor job of protecting her from the biting air. The factory, she knew, would be warm and dry, so she hustled along, her fingers numb. She did not enjoy working during the winter months, but she had no choice. She had to see her darling Cosette!_ Cosette, _she thought,_ I will come back for you soon. I promise._

Her thoughts were disrupted when she felt as though she was being watched. Sure enough, as she turned around, a man holding a large basket was watching her with deep blue eyes. Her eyes met his, but she dismissed this as nothing and rushed to work.

* * *

><p>Work had once again been uneventful, but as Fantine collected her paycheck, she noticed several other women watching her out of the corner of their eyes. Trying to ignore them, she left the factory and began her walk to the post office to write to Cosette and the Thénardiers. Finding her usual letter writer, she asked him to write for her:<p>

_Dearest Cosette,_

_I have found a well-paying job in M. sur M. I am certain that I will be able to return to you soon. You must have grown large and strong since I have last seen you. When I come back for you, we'll start a new life together. I haven't seen you in years, but my heart aches for you at every moment of the day. I am working hard so that I may see you soon, my lovely daughter._

Fantine signed her name, enclosed twelve francs and the letter inside of an envelope, had the envelope addressed, and sent it. Little did she know that one of the other women from the factory had been spying on her the whole time.

**A/N: I know the first chapter is not very eventful, but it is important for me to lay the groundwork. The second chapter will pick up quickly. I'm starting it right now, actually. –AshQueen**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYBODY! That is all I have to say, so… um, yeah…**

**I still have my beta and Microsoft Word.**

**I do not own**_** Les Misérables **_**or **_**Hetalia**_**. If I did, then I would have made France a canon **_**Les Misérables**_** fanboy…**

M. sur M., February 20, 1822, 3rd person, Fantine's POV

Fantine's stomach turned. Lately, it seemed as though the other factory workers were coming close to discovering the truth. She couldn't lose her job now; she was still in debt from furniture and rent. She worked harder than ever before, bent on convincing everybody that she was simply a hard worker with nothing to hide. The other workers would often give her dirty looks.

Hanging up her smock, she was about to trek back home when a middle-aged woman by the name of Madame Victurnien began talking loudly to a small group of women near Fantine. Fantine listened, trying to see what they had discovered about her.

"Yesterday, I came across a letter addressed to a 'Monsieur, Monsieur Thénardier, inn-keeper at Montfermeil.' This is _very_ curious," Madame Victurnien announced to the group, smirking.

"Could it be that Fantine is having an affair?" one of the other workers asked.

"Perhaps I will be able to find out tonight when I talk to her letter writer," Madame Victurnien replied.

* * *

><p>Fantine could feel the blood drain from her face as she rushed home. Surely, the letter writer would not disclose anything to them, right? If they knew about Cosette, she would lose her job. The whole town would view her as a whore, she was absolutely sure of it! She hadn't known any better at the time…<p>

* * *

><p>Paris, 1815, 3rd person, Fantine's POV<p>

_ Tholomyès held Fantine close to him, quietly singing a traditional Spanish song. Fantine smiled, hypnotized by his voice. "Darling, I love you," she murmured quietly against his chest. He smiled back, his eyes focused on her head. "Dear, if you love me, could you prove it?" he responded. "How would you like me to prove it?" Fantine asked innocently, unaware of what he was implying. _

"_Tonight, come home with me."_

"_I will," Fantine replied, too naïve to understand._

* * *

><p><em>Needless to say, that night her innocence was taken without her understanding of what was happening. A month later, she knelt in front of a metal bucket, heaving. Her mornings were now spent in this way, regurgitating her strange dietary cravings. She had missed her monthly cycle, but she still felt emotional. "<em>Am I ill?"_ she thought._

* * *

><p>M. sur M., February 23, 1822, 3rd person, Fantine's POV<p>

Three days later, her fears were realized. While Fantine hung up her smock after a hard day of work, she overheard a conversation between Madame Victurnien and another worker.

"I talked to her letter writer last night. Fantine has a child that is being raised in Montfermeil," Madame Victurnien revealed.

* * *

><p>A month had passed, and it seemed that everybody knew that she had a child. The other workers looked down on her and avoided her. It was only a matter of time until she lost her job, and she dreaded whatever was to come. The Thénardiers had raised her monthly payment to fifteen francs a month, and she was still in debt for her rent and furniture. Madame Victurnien had even traveled to Montfermeil and announced that she had seen the child.<p>

On March 5th, Fantine was called into the office of the superintendent of the workroom. Her palms were sweating as she stood before the superintendent's desk.

"Is it true that you are the mother of an illegitimate child?" the superintendent asked coldly.

"Y-yes - but I can explain-" Fantine began, her voice beginning to crack.

"Take these fifty francs. You are no longer employed here. Leave the neighborhood."

Fantine begged and pleaded her case, but her cries for help were ignored. That night, she collapsed on her bed, sobbing and unemployed.

**A/N: Thank you to everybody who has read this so far! Yes, in this chapter I did say that Fantine didn't understand what was going on when Tholomyès impregnated her. She was an orphan, so nobody would have taught her about the intimacies between a man and woman. That's my theory, anyway. France will also be in the next chapter. I'm sorry that he wasn't in here, but this was an important chapter since it shows the beginning of Fantine's downward spiral. I'll update soon! -AshQueen**


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